


Bonfire Night

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Raffles and Bunny go out to experience the fireworks and celebrations.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Bonfire Night

The biting chill of Bonfire Night greeted me as I stepped outside of Earl’s Court. Breathless I struggled with the bath-chair and soon enough there I stood in the freedom of the outdoors, away from being cooped up in that small room, able to roam under the red and green sky, lit up by lanterns and blazing lights.

I had managed to convince Dr. Theobald that I was simply taking the bath-chair outside to deposit a Guy for the local Bonfire Night celebrations but in fact it wasn’t a ‘dressed up stuffed full of hay make-believe Guy Fawkes’, but the very real body of Raffles underneath a disguise. There he sat, his head lolled to one side, covered by a sack with eye cut-outs, his arms lifeless at his side and his shirt open revealing hay and straw as if he were a scarecrow in a lonely field. He wore a tall hat on his head and a smart jacket, appearing the very image of Guy Fawkes. To the world he was just a doll, a lifeless effigy, to Dr. Theobald he was the irascible Mr. Maturin, but to me he was the breathing and living A.J Raffles in the flesh and we were going to spend the evening together.

“Bunny get me out of this garb,” came the muffled reply of my partner.

As soon as we were out of the eyeline of our building and down a secluded alley, I whipped off the disguise and smiled at the handsome face of my Raffles, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Don’t want you thrown on a bonfire!” I said, watching as he climbed out of the bath-chair and removed pieces of hay from his silver hair.

“Certainly not,” he replied.

I rubbed my cold hands together. “Remember Remember the 5th of November, Raffles dressed as a Guy. There shall be no grieving if Raffles a thieving, only fires in the sky!”

“Very good, Bunny, one should relish in being known for many years after their exploits.”

I laughed. “You want people to throw dolls of you on bonfires and dance about and get merry in your name?”

“Not exactly, Bunny, but to have some sense of eternal remembrance.”

“I think you’re forgetting, A.J, you are technically dead already.”

“Yes, and where’s the fuss?”

“You were in all the newspapers.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh really, you’re terrible. Can’t we just enjoy this night together?”

“Of course, Bunny, that we shall. Whoever I may be, I know I enjoy a bracing Bonfire Night. Look at those magnificent lights, Bunny! Superlative.”

We looked upward to where rooftops around the city where lit up with flames in all colours, fires blazing all around in majesty against the blackness of the night sky. All around there was noise and chaos, people marching down streets carrying lanterns and flaming torches, children wheeling effigies of Guy Fawkes to nearby blazing bonfires. The smell of smoke was all around and filled the air with a choking layer of grey— the already smoggy city caked with even more layers of smoke. 

“This way, Bunny,” Raffles said as we zig-zagged through the crowds, walking down several long streets until we found our way onto a field where a giant bonfire was lit in the centre and people were throwing a number of items onto the towering orange inferno. At the top was the burning image of Guy Fawkes himself, his body of material and straw, ablaze.

“Shall I throw something on there, A.J?” I said. “My recent writings perhaps.” I took out some scraps of paper from my pocket.

“Far too precious,” he said, snatching it away. “Your writing is to be treasured. The hand of my dear Rabbit is like no other.”

My face felt hot but I was unsure whether it was the flames or indeed a sudden flush of embarrassment. “Nothing else to throw.”

Raffles took off his white scarf and waved it in the air. “How about this?”

“Your old scarf?”

“The only piece of clothing I still have from when you kept it after all the business.”

“A.J, you couldn’t.”

“Raffles is dead, Bunny, we can burn this now and be done with him.”

I gulped. Where had this sudden melancholy arisen from? Why was he trying to act as though he was really dead, like a lingering ghost stuck on the Earth to watch from afar? There was something about Bonfire Night that made one reflective. The way a choice can change us forever, the way a simple moment in time can affect the outcome of the future whether it be a country’s path or a personal destiny. One slight change and how different life can be. 

“If it’s your scarf for the fire, have mine too,” I said, unwrapping it from my cold neck and waving it in the air as though it were a flag of surrender. 

As the night breeze caught the scarves, they interlocked and we laughed as we untangled them and walked together determinedly to the bonfire where we discarded our scarves atop the flames and turned away, not looking back.

“Here’s to the future,” I said. “Good riddance to those scarves.” I let out a clumsy laugh but Raffles just smiled briefly and walked on ahead.

We were silent on the walk home, passing celebratory crowds who were mostly drunk and giddy, no longer remembering what the events were in aid of. In contrast Raffles was sober and reflective and I longed to stroke his hand and kiss his cheek and take him in my arms under that burning November sky. But alas, we didn’t touch for the entire walk back and my thoughts drifted to Dr. Theobald and whether he’d notice Raffles was gone and how he would be waiting for me and the bathchair. The quicker Raffles got out of this situation the better. 

“Say, A.J, how are we going to explain the bath-chair we abandoned back in the raucous?”

“You leave old Dr. Theobald to me. I’ll not let him bully you.”

“So, to the roof?”

“Indeed.”

…

Up on the roof, away from the crowds, Raffles and I stood gazing up at the sky where the stars were now enveloped by smoke, and orange blazed all around from many rooftops. In many ways it looked like a warzone but in some ways it looked spectacular and beautiful as it seemed people were communicating using beacons of light— sharing the night together.

And then the fireworks whizzed through the sky, popping and bursting into a million sparkles of bright light, dispersing into a myriad of shape and pattern, pinks and reds, swirling and tumbling, never committing to a single path as colours separated or coagulated in a never-ending maze of fire.

I looked over at Raffles, watching as the colours lit up his pale face—the colours dancing in his eyes as I gazed into them. His eyes were mesmerised, and I by him. 

“Are you alright, A.J?” I asked, taking his hand in mine.

“On a night as beautiful as this, how can one not be, Bunny?”

“So, you like the fireworks?” I said as another flew over our heads screeching and whizzing and making a loud bang as it burst.

“They’re like a handful of jewels, Bunny, unattainable jewels. But how it makes them dazzle.”

“I must say I jolly well like the company as much.”

He turned to me and smiled a wide grin. We had missed so much. How precious these moments were when we’d been deprived of them for so long. Like the fireworks which came but once a year, Raffles also felt fleeting, never knowing when I’d lose him forever.

He tapped my nose with his cold finger. “Remember remember, the 5th of November, the story is rather more sunny for I know of no reason why this marvellous season, shan’t be for Raffles and Bunny.”

I laughed as he laughed and was overjoyed he was able to take joy in the moment. “It’s our time, A.J, up here, out in the open, under this miraculous sky. This is us.”

“To Guy Fawkes and his men for the guts they had, well the guts before at least. Not that I condone treason of course but the sheer gall of it.” Raffles raised an imaginary glass.

“To A.J Raffles,” I added. “The man with the most amount of gall I’ve ever known. Forget Guy, forget Catesby, Raffles is my eternal figure.”

“Ah but I shan’t be sung about in a few hundred years.”

I took his hands and placed them around my back and then I leaned on his shoulder, pressed against him tightly as he embraced me. It was warm in his hold and I could barely feel the November chill or even hear the fireworks as I stayed in the place I loved best, next to Raffles’ heart.

“And you won’t be thrown on any bonfires either!” I whispered.


End file.
